


Get off The Runway

by storywriter8



Series: Wizards and Werewolves and Wind Oh My! [15]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e10 The Runway Job, Family Feels, Insecure Eliot Spencer, Jealousy, Missing Scene, Naked Parker, Non-Explicit Nakedness, Not Beta Read, Protective Alec Hardison, Sharing Clothes, Shifter Eliot, Slow Burn, Werewolf Eliot Spencer, Wind Elemental Parker, Wizard Hardison, non-sexual nakedness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter8/pseuds/storywriter8
Summary: Hardison finds that he prefers Eliot in flannel than the puffed up high fashion that the hitter had been parading around in for the job.
Series: Wizards and Werewolves and Wind Oh My! [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1157621
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	Get off The Runway

Hardison sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes and finally closing his laptop. The clean up had been a bit trickier this time since it was the frigging Triad. The hacker had decided that it was better to be safe than sorry and spent nearly four extra hours deep cleaning their paper trail.

The rest of the team had taken off early in the night to celebrate in their own ways leaving Hardison to his computer. Or at least that was what Hardison had thought until he caught sight of movement in the back room as he stretched out the kinks in his back.

Setting his laptop aside and standing with a groan, Hardison ambled over and pushed aside the sliding room divider. His eyebrows shot up as he spotted Eliot standing in front of the floor length three sided mirror Sophie had dragged into the apartment months ago. 

The hitter was wearing a charcoal colored button up covered in intricate embroidery. His eyes were still lined in black and was still wearing the loose fitting jewelry that he had bitched about messing him up in a fight at the beginning of the job.

Hardison hated it, hated it even more than that dumb red shirt and scarf combo. But after the hurt, self-conscious look Eliot had worn for nearly a day after Hardison’s stupid comments, the hacker didn't dare speak his mind. 

Eliot glanced at him, blushing slightly at being caught staring in the mirror. “Tara said I should update my look if I want to get better at griftin’,” he mumbled with an awkward shrug.

And oh did Hardison want to kill the fury for that. 

It had taken the hacker a long damn time to realize just how much energy Eliot spent using anger to cover the insecurities he had about how narrow his skill range was. He couldn't grift, he couldn't hack, he couldn't steal. Eliot could punch and was convinced that was all he was good for.

It wasn't true but Hardison had had no luck covertly trying to convince the hitter of that. Instead he, Parker and Sophie had taken to casually teaching Eliot their skills. But Sophie was gone now and Tara had ripped open the wound they had been painstakingly healing.

Swallowing all the things he wanted to tell his friend, as Eliot didn't take directness to heart, Hardison shrugged. “I think you look better in flannel.”

Eliot stared at Hardison for so long that the hacker was convinced that the jealous angry he was feeling had leaked into his voice. He was about to start blathering like an idiot when Eliot smiled.

An honest to god, huge, happy smile. A smile rarer than a double rainbow. 

Eliot pulled the shirt over his head, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into a wastepaper basket on the other side of the room, still smiling. He tossed the jewelry off next, letting it clatter to the floor and grabbing a makeup wipe off a nearby side table and cleaning the eyeliner off. Finally he snatched up his well worn flannel shirt off the back of a chair and pulled it on before turning back to Hardison.

The hacker tore his eyes away from the ragged, bite shaped scar on Eliot's side and grinned. Snatching up the camera Parker had used the other day, Hardison made loud shutter sounds with his mouth and pretended to be an overzealous french photographer lavishing his model with praise.

Eliot laughed at him but obliged the hacker with several outrageous poses and pouted lips. After a few moments both men were distracted by a clattering in the air duct above them and Eliot reacted just fast enough to catch Parker as she tumbled out of a vent.

“Stupid dress,” the thief grumbled, tugging at the Andre V dress she had put back on when she had spotted her boys playing around. Satisfied, Parker dramatically posed herself in Eliot’s arms.

Eliot shrugged and adopted an equally dramatic expression making the pair of them look very much like the cover of a paperback romance novel.

Hardison turned on the camera and took a real picture, for science, and shook his head. “If you didn't like the dress, why did you take it?”

“I wore it, it's mine now,” Parker explained as Eliot set her on her feet and then caught her as she tripped on her skirt.

“You know, I met an ex-spook a while back that loved to make tactical formal wear. I could give him a call and see if he's got any thief dresses laying around,” Eliot murmured with a shrug.

Giving a squeal of delight, Parker clapped her hands and immediately flung the offending dress off of her body. Wearing nothing but underwear and socks, the thief did her happy dance around the room.

Hardison made a choking noise and quickly looked away from the wind sprite. “Are? Are those my briefs?”

Eliot rolled his eyes and picked up one of his Henleys and handed it to Parker, too used to her quirks to be phased by her near nakedness. He did, however, aim a half-hearted swipe at her probing finger aimed towards the scar on his side and quickly buttoned up his shirt.

Pouting at the disappearance of her target, Parker pulled the shirt over her head and then brightened. “Movie night!”

“Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about!” Hardison cried, still facing away from them and punching the air. He then yelped as Parker jumped at him and dragged him towards the pillow den. “You comin'?” Hardison asked, glancing hopefully over his shoulder.

Eliot ‘s smile was still warm and open and he nodded. “I'll rustle up some dinner.”

Parker and Hardison grinned at each other as their hitter started banging and clanging around in the kitchen. One small victory at a time.


End file.
